


The Golden Skull

by TurntechGoth



Category: Persona 5
Genre: (more characters to be added!), Gen, NJPW - Freeform, Pro-Wrestling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28948947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurntechGoth/pseuds/TurntechGoth
Summary: Without his persona by his side, Ryuji is left without a goal, or a passion, searching for the same sense of justice he felt inside the metaverse. He finds that and much more within the ropes, executing on a childhood dream as he fights his way to revive "Skull" and finds himself in the process.
Kudos: 6





	1. Reflections of a Former Phantom Thief

**Author's Note:**

> So, I watched Wrestle Kingdom and I felt things. I've been sitting on this idea for a long time but that was the trigger that got this fic started. No heavy knowledge of pro-wrestling should be needed to understand this story, and I'm hoping to focus this more on Ryuji outside of the ring than inside it. Hope you enjoy!

“It’s just what… 50 somethin minutes? I’ve done that before, well… done a lot more than just 50 minutes, just never at once.” Ryuji spoke to himself as he wandered backstage, chewing on his lower lip periodically as he tried all he could to focus on the music pumping through his headphones, anything to drown out the sound of the music, the hits, the crowd above him in the arena.

Ryuji loved that energy, that sound… that… spark. He lived for it, even! But for once, just this once? He needed it to shut up, he needed to focus, he needed to… relax. A jolt of kinetic energy kept itself running circuits around his body even as he let out a deep sigh, his boots tapping against the concrete of the empty hallway. The blonde (dyed blonde, at least) couldn’t tell what made this match so much different than the others. It made his mind run into a panic he hadn’t felt since well… his first match, or maybe his first race back at Shujin, if he wanted to take it back that far.

He laughed as his shook his head, knowing exactly what made his match so much different than any before, and what would make it different than anything he’d do after, no matter if he continued this life for 50 years or risked it all on a bad spot and his career ended next week. It was the main event at Tokyo Dome, a venue he’d been to as a kid, one he took his friends to, before they all went their separate ways. One he’d ramble on and on about wrestling at, and finally… that day was here. Main event in his first visit… a hell of a debut.

Finally, his music took his focus again, his playlist cycling back to well… his music. Ryuji always found that, maybe the coolest part of this job. Not the flamboyant costumes, the pyrotechnics, the smiling faces of kids and cheering roar of the crowd, none of that. The best part about being a pro-wrestler? Having your own music. Then again, the kids were a nice touch, maybe… that was the best part of the job, he went back and forth between the two.

Back then, he was one of those kids. Now? He wanted to be there for those kids. Yeah, eff the music. Anyone who needed a hero, young or old? Ryuji wanted to be that. That’s why they started the Thieves all those years ago, didn’t they? Sure, they had personal circumstances, but he always thought there was more to it, something more monumental.

Ryuji shrugged as he left the thought for later, jumping with his knees to his chest as he tried to loosen up. His gaze drifted down to his bad leg as he landed, just in case. His “bad leg” was more kayfabe than reality at this point, just a small memory of his past he worked into his act. “Skull” Sakamoto wasn’t, really him? But… it was a lot of him, about 70% or so. That’s how this business worked, anyway, or how it’d been trending towards ever since he found himself working the squared circle. It was fact he took pride in, as well. Even if “Skull” wasn’t all of him, it was the best of him. It was just like it had been back at Shujin, an embodiment of his rebellion, his friendship, his longing for a better world. Just, instead of gods, demons and shadows… he fought, tweeners, heels, and factions. And of course, occasionally a god.

He continued his stretching in the empty hall, the occasional roar of the crowd bringing his focus right back to the night at hand, the reason he was stretching. He’d traveled the world for this, worked his ass off for this, bled, sweat, and most definitely cried for this. Yet, unless he could somehow be a Phantom Thief forever? He couldn’t see his life going any other way. Ryuji beamed at the thought as he brought his body to the floor, arms on either side of himself as he worked in a few quick pushups, anything to pump up his body just a bit before the match. He couldn’t just, act, like a superhero, he had to look like one too.

Ryuji finished his set and rolled over onto his back, watching the ceiling with a sigh as he took his earbuds out, living in the ambience of the moment. This wasn’t just any warmup; this wasn’t just any night. He closed his eyes as he tried to imagine the scene above himself, each hit bringing someone to the mat, and someone in the stands to their feet. The spring of the mat, bouncing almost as much as the taught ropes, the “cage” that kept the battle contained, at least until someone decided to climb to them. Ryuji could easily imagine himself up there, or more properly, “Skull” up there. The picture came easy to his mind, not of someone in the ring, but as an excited kid, watching the match with his friends, swearing it was the coolest thing ever… of course without actually swearing. Maybe just an “eff”, or a “for real?”. 

Soon enough the buzz of his phone drove his mind back to reality, popping the dream bubble as he slowly shifted his body to sit upright. It wasn’t a text or call, just a simple alarm he left for himself in case he got in his own head… which of course he did. His brown eyes scanned over the screen with a small smirk as he got up, a simple message waiting for him, “Part 2.” Only he knew what it meant, but for Ryuji? It meant the world.

Headphones were back in and his music was pumping as Ryuji moved to his feet, navigating the backstage area with a few quick smiles and glances, a wave or two, a concerned look as he glanced over the after math of one of the earlier matches. Even then, it was only a passing glance, his eyes drawn down the hallway and towards his destination, the dressing room. It was time for Skull to put on his mask.


	2. The Opening Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a dream, both in fantasy, and in reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Homophobia and some verbal abuse. Basically, Ryuji's Dad is an asshole. 
> 
> This kind of stuff shouldn't be common place in this fic, but I'll make sure to TW chapters if things come up later on. Enjoy the chapter!

The room was dark, a simple TV set letting a dim white glow wash over the room, as a small boy sat in front of the screen. He was far too close to be healthy, but his mother wasn’t there to stop him. That boy was Ryuji Sakamoto, face practically pressed to the screen as his eyes were wide in awe. The echoes of bodies hitting the mat rang through the empty room, the commentary team providing him companionship.

“Heading to The Ring…” Ryuji couldn’t help but already move to his feet, mouthing along with the announcers as his eyes were watching the screen intently, “the team of Kota Ibushi and Kenny Omega… The Golden Lovers!” The boy cheered along with the crowd; a face full of jubilation lit up by the screen. That was, until the sound of the squeaky front door drew his attention and pulled him out of his pro-wrestling dream.

“You’re watchin that fuckin shit again?” The gruff voice of his father broke his moment, the harsh lights flickering on in the living room only making it worse.

“M-Ma said you can’t say that stuff…” the boy squeaked out in meek protest, his eyes darting to the floor as he watched his father’s boots find them way in front of him.

“She also said you shouldn’t be up this fuckin late, so I guess we’re both criminals here.” His father growled as Ryuji felt a rough grip grab his shirt, pulling the boy up off the floor as he was already wincing, trying to prepare himself for what came next. His father’s eyes quickly drifted away from the boy, though, glaring daggers at the two figures dominating the view of the camera.

“The fuck are those two doin? This is even worse than what you were watchin last time!” The grip on Ryuji was loosened as his father turned to face the TV, taking a step closer as Ryuji ran in the opposite direction, the agile boy hiding behind the couch and peering over it.

“They’re fuckin fags, Ryuji. Did you know that? I bet you fuckin like that, huh. You watch this shit because you wanna go to hell? You fuckin sinner?! No fuckin son of mine is gonna be a fag, I hope you fuckin know that!” The man’s voice only grew louder as he rushed to turn off the TV, his hand slamming down on the power button as he almost broke the poor thing. This left the duo in silence, his son left cowering behind the couch.

“I ain’t hearing a fucking answer, Ryuji.” The boy’s breath began to pick up, closing his eyes tight as he held his legs close to his chest. He couldn’t fight, could he? That’s what Kota did, he fought, no matter how much bigger the other guy was! But Ryuji wasn’t him, he’d never, be him. It was just… a dream, to be anything like the heroes he saw on TV. His thoughts were interrupted by the same sound that broke his dream before, the heavy sound of footsteps nearing the couch.

Ryuji couldn’t fight… but what he could do? He could run. He let his arms rush to his side as he bounced to his feet, keeping his focus solely in front of himself as he rushed for the door, leaving his father in the dust. The door slammed behind Ryuji as he scrambled past his father’s police cruiser parked in the driveway. It wasn’t safe for him to be out this late, he knew that. He just needed to run, and hopefully Ann would let him spend the night. He’d figure out what to tell his mom later.

“You fuckin runnin, boy? Keep runnin, god’s gonna find you! Hell, I’ll fuckin find you!” The booming voice echoed behind Ryuji, but he never looked back.

* * *

The sun was shining down as Ryuji found the street gliding below him, his idle eyes searching along the storefronts for something to do. His mom had told him to find his way out of the house, but that was easier said than done when you’d just moved to new city. It was a good choice, he needed the new environment, for sure. Yet, that didn’t make it an easy choice. Ryuji had struggled so far to find friends at his new school, and with the thieves scattered and all on different time schedules… it wasn’t as easy to spend time together like it was when they could just invade LeBlanc.

He sighed as he guided his board towards the curb, stopping it with a simple step as he swiftly kicked his board up, grabbing it as he found his way onto the sidewalk. His eyes quickly scanned around him, mentally going down the list of the places nearby. A salon? Nah, not his style. Record store? Maybe later, once he got some spending cash. His eyes scanned right past the clothing stores for the same reason, until the sign above one building caught his eye.

The building itself was a bit peculiar, a large warehouse at the end of the block, contrasting with the stores leading up to it and surrounding it. Yet, the sign is what drew his glance, a small gasp leaving his lips. “Sakido Wrestling Academy.” Ryuji’s eyes glanced back and forth over the words as he took small steps towards the building. Wrestling Academy? They… had those? Yeah, they had to, those guys didn’t just learn what they did without training, but he’d never quite considered the concept of a wrestling, “school,” before.

Ryuji laughed to himself as he peered through the window, feeling a bit ridiculous, like an outside looking in. He saw the ring front and center, an older figure standing on the edge as he looked down at the recruits, most of them older than Ryuji, yet a few looked like they might be 3rd years. Could he make friends in a place like this? Not to replace the thieves, of course! But if they kept being busy…

His gaze quickly darted away, taking a step back as one of the figures inside caught the outsider’s gaze, a small smile forming across their face. He’d probably looked like a little kid, that small figure with his face to the TV, eating up every move like it was life or death. Ryuji’s foot was tapping rapidly as he just, stood there, body eager to move until he finally started for the door. He took a small breath before he opened it up, and swiftly found his way inside.

It wasn’t quite like entering the metaverse, but there was a shiver down his spine, his body making some sort of realization, even if he was unaware. He kept his body near the door as he watched along for a moment, eventually catching eyes with what seemed like a trainer, or an older recruit, at least. Ryuji assured himself as he took steps forward, a smile crossing his face as he spoke up, “Uh… are you guys lookin for new, people? I just got to town…”


End file.
